Walking along Bohannon Road near Syria, Virginia

Walking along Bohannon Road near Syria, Virginia

Walking through the world of monotypes


Walking across Virginia’s western Piedmont, making a daily record of this beautiful and changing land as it evolves under the hand of nature and the actions of humans, and creating monotypes of what I see...these things define who I am. Three stretches of road near my home totaling five miles have virtually become part of me. And I have recorded some parts of them in monotypes over and over for a quarter of a century, since that day in which I abruptly changed careers and included this unique medium as part of what I would do for the rest of my life.I began my new life back then by taking classes in printmaking, and when I turned to the monotype, I immediately found fulfillment in the medium’s directness and its ability to teach me about light and how minute by minute, daylight can transform trees, fields, ditches, and mountains. From the beginning I wanted to develop an almost photographic look (and I do make freehand sketches inspired from photographs taken “on the road”) and have always worked in variations of a single dark color. The challenge, of course, is to communicate each scene’s “story” in grayscale rather than in color.Like all monotypes, each print is unique, an edition of one, made by painting onto a clear acrylic plate and transferring that image directly to paper using a press. The manipulation of oil color on the plate with various brushes and tools takes many hours to achieve the scene I remember; then I lay a sheet of damp paper on top of the “wet” plate and run both through my etching press. When I peel the paper off, virtually all of the color transfers, and a single, unrepeatable image is created.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

"Etlan Road, June 3, 2009, 9:49 a.m." printed on June 5, 2009



Two months of routine downpours have produced a lush June landscape in the western Piedmont, and this Paulownia Tree alongside the “Blue Grass Field,” knee deep in vegetation, looks like it might be in the tropics. Indeed, its distinctive heartshaped leaves seem to melt into the humidity. No summer would be complete if I didn’t print this stretch of roadway where acres of pastureland seem to collect and toss golden light everywhere. (12 by 16.5 inches, printed on Stonehenge paper)

"Memorial Day on Etlan Road, May 25, 2009, 10:38 a.m." printed on May 27, 2009



On this overcast but bright Memorial Day walk, the mix of refracted and reflected light falls gently through the Tulip tree colonnade on the left and the forest of Oak, Tulip, and Locust on the right, creating a nave of peaceful beauty. While I’m inking in the oil color two days later, I wonder if this story of filtered light is too simple an idea, but ultimately I discover its simplicity to be the print’s strength, not its weakness. (12 by 16.5 inches on Stonehenge paper)

"December 1, 2008, 4:11 p.m. on Etlan Road" printed on December 8, 2008



I dread the arrival of “Dark December,” but on this 45 degree afternoon about a mile up the road from where I live, the late sun suddenly shoots bolts of yellow light straight down Champe Plain Valley, illuminating the trees and weeds in its path. The intense pleasure of this moment takes me by surprise, and I make photographs and notes with plans to see if I can revisit this simple event in a monotype. The “blue winter sky” is made by brushing the oil color across the acrylic sheet, then tapping it down with a stencil brush to get the soft “lithographic” effect. The twigs and branches, are then painted in with a thin brush and touched up by pencil tips wrapped in scraps of paper towel. As I paint in the long shadows, the print begins to take on a life of its own. (12 by 16.5 inches, printed on Stonehenge paper)

"April 23, 2009, 10:14 a.m., on Leathers Road" printed that afternoon



By the time I climb the gravel sloped backroad to this high ridge of land, I’m already two and a half miles from my front driveway and a bit winded. But the photographs I took accurately record the grand moment, as light bounces around everywhere, and the shadows are dynamic. Back in the studio later that morning, I flip the digital photo to reverse the image, and draw my pencil sketch to guide my application of the oil color on the clear plate. In other words, I paint a backward image on the print plate so that when I peel the print off of the plate, the image returns to the “reality” I saw that morning. (12 by 16.5 inches, printed on Stonehenge paper)

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

"June 27, 2009, 11:48 a.m. on Leathers Road" printed on June 30, 2009


I have walked along Leathers Road many times over the years and done some very nice prints before, but this year, I printed this stretch of gravel road over and over again (and continue to do so this winter from photos and sketches made last summer). The titles I use are from the first photo I take of this moment from which freehand sketches are made which guide the inking up of the plate. High summer has reached this remote road and I can stand here almost forever without seeing another person. The woods are in full leaf and the sun’s angle is steep, and where these elements collide, the light expands like dozens of little supernovae. After laying in the tree trunks, branches, the lights and darks of the foliage, mundane tools such as Q-tips and wads of paper towel scraps pick out these explosions of sunlight, all tempered by the stencil brush’s steadying influence. (12 by 16.5 inches, printed on Stonehenge paper)